I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Inside the grand hall of the naming ceremony, Cassandra's uncle paced back and forth, his eyes darting from one doorway to the next, then shifting to the tall windows that lined the walls.

His brow was furrowed with worry, his mind racing with a thousand questions. "Where is she?" he muttered under his breath, his fingers drumming anxiously against his thigh.

'She is supposed to have returned from wherever she had gone by now,' his mind raced. His unease grew with each passing second.

'Did she turn it down once again?' he wondered, a bitter feeling welling up inside him. 'Has she disgraced me by changing her mind?'

'It won't be funny if she tries to play games today.'

He took a deep, steadying breath, trying to push down the rising bitter feeling.

His eyes darted to the other guests, all of them elegantly dressed and engaged in conversations with one another.

Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to maintain a calm, collected demeanor.

'She had better not refuse to come,' he thought, his fingers flexing with barely contained tension. 'I can't afford for her to ruin this for me. Not this time.'

With each passing second, his anxiety only grew, as he continued his anxious vigil.

Suddenly, the grand hall doors swung open, and a figure clad in a shimmering gold gown swept into the room.

Cassandra's face remained blank as she made her way through the crowded space.

Her uncle, spotting her arrival, hurried over and pulled her aside, speaking in a hushed, yet clearly agitated tone.

"What took you so long?!" he hissed, his eyes narrowing. "You know we can't keep a gentleman waiting."

Cassandra met his gaze steadily. "Zafron, my guard was caught up in something. I came as soon as I could."

Her uncle's jaw tightened, but he seemed to bite back a sharper retort. "Well, no matter. You're here now. Remember, you need to be on your best behavior when you meet him."

He leveled her with a pointed stare. "Remember everything I told you last night. Most importantly, try to be nice to him."

Cassandra couldn't help but groan inwardly. "I understand. But you mustn't forget my purpose here is to witness the naming ceremony," she said with a side glance to Uncle Harold before smiling in greeting towards a noble lady that walked past them.

"Of course...of course my dead. The ..naming" Uncle Harold said with not as much enthusiasm as one would hope.

With that, her uncle led the way.

'When will this man understand that I'm not interested in all these men he's bringing to me? They're just not my type. I need someone like...' As she thought of that, Zafron's face flashed through her mind, and a smile appeared on her lips.

Her uncle's voice broke through her thoughts as he gestured towards a well-dressed man standing nearby. "Cassandra, meet Lucien of House Valenor from Lumina."

Lucien stepped forward, a charming smile spreading across his face. He gently took Cassandra's hand, raising it to his lips in a polite gesture. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my lady, Cassandra."

Cassandra felt the weight of her uncle's pointed gaze as she forced a demure smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Lucien."

As she greeted him, her eyes drifted from his neatly oiled brown hair down to his well-tailored clothes, finally settling on the ornate gold rings adorning his fingers and the shimmering golden shoes on his feet.

She chuckled inwardly, thinking, 'Is he dressed to impress me or what? Sad enough, riches don't impress me. The only thing that would truly impress me is if he has a heart made of gold.'

Outwardly, however, Cassandra managed a polite smile, her training in social graces kicking in to mask her true thoughts.

Just then, her uncle's voice broke the silence. "Well, I'll leave you two to get better acquainted." He gave Cassandra a pointed look, a silent reminder of the expectations she was to uphold.

As her uncle stepped away, Cassandra felt a twinge of annoyance. She knew she had to play the part of the dutiful, charming potential bride, but the prospect of engaging in idle chatter with Lucien was hardly appealing.

"You know, while the craftsmanship here is certainly impressive," Lucien started, his tone laced with a hint of condescension, "the materials used simply don't compare to the quality we have access to in Lumina."

'Criticizing the materials here is the best you can think of to start a conversation with your wannabe bride? Hmmm, what a smart choice,' she thought, rolling her eyes but maintaining her composed stance.

She however raised a delicate brow. "Oh? And what makes the materials in Lumina so superior?"

Lucien leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret. "Well, my dear, the fabrics, the jewels, even the very architecture - it all pales in comparison to the grandeur of our homeland. After all, Lumina has been the center of refinement and sophistication for centuries."

He gestured toward the glittering chandeliers overhead, his lip curling slightly. "These may dazzle the senses, but they're nothing compared to the masterpieces we've cultivated in Lumina. The artistry, the attention to detail - it's on a level that simply can't be matched here."

Cassandra fought the urge to roll her eyes. 'Of course, Lumina is the pinnacle of elegance and culture. How could I have forgotten?' she thought with a dastardly thought crossing her mind. His very attitude right off the gate made her want to puke.

"I see," she replied coolly, her gaze sweeping the room. "Well, I must say, the people of Drakoria have certainly put forth their finest efforts to make this event truly spectacular."

Lucien scoffed lightly. "I suppose, if one has a penchant for the... provincial. But for those of us accustomed to the highest standards of refinement, like you and myself of course, my lady ..this it leaves much to be desired." Lucien said, gesturing with his fingers in a haughty manner.

Cassandra felt a twinge of annoyance at his condescending tone, but she forced herself to maintain a polite façade.

'This is going to take a while.'

As Lucien continued his critique of the party's decor, an attendant approached them with a tray of wine glasses.

Seizing the opportunity, Cassandra reached for one of the glasses, silently grateful for the chance to occupy her hands and mouth, if only to avoid having to respond to Lucien's condescending remarks.

"Please, try this wine," she said, offering the glass to Lucien. "It's a lovely vintage, made right here in Drakoria."

Lucien accepted the glass, swirling the deep red liquid contemplatively. "Hmm, not bad, I suppose," he conceded, taking a sip. "Though I must say, we have access to far superior vintages in Lumina."

Cassandra resisted the urge to sigh. 'Of course you do. Heaven forbid anything from Drakoria could possibly measure up to the greatness of Lumina.'

Inwardly, she complained, 'Does he do nothing but prattle on about the wonders of his homeland? What a tedious way to try and impress me.'

Outwardly, she maintained a polite smile. "Well, then, perhaps you could invite me to Lumina someday, so I might have the chance to sample these renowned wines for myself."

'As if that's truly an invitation I desire,' she thought, her gaze briefly drifting toward the grand entrance once more. 'I'd much rather be anywhere but here, listening to him drone on about his precious Lumina.'

Lucien seemed pleased by her suggestion and nodded enthusiastically. "Why, of course, my dear! We could even go now. I'll get you all you need, I'm a man of means, you know?"

'A man of means? You don't mean it.' She chuckled inwardly, her gaze drifting once again toward the entrance, silently praying for some incident or someone—anything—that would save her from Lucien and his boring conversations.